Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
I t was after midnight when Ethan and Stella climbed into the back seat of another hired car. There were no cardboard trees dangling from the rearview mirror, but Ethan could smell more than one pine-scented deodorizer stashed somewhere inside.
Normally, this would make him roll down the window. Artificial anything was not his jam. It was a philosophy that had served as the backbone of his campaign, and it was one of the things he enjoyed most about magic.
With the exception of prophetic magic, there was no bullshit about it. Everything straightforward. Just like Stella. You got what you saw. And when he looked at her, he loved everything he saw: beauty, loyalty, integrity, honesty.
He sniffed, blocking out the stifling piney offense, and refrained from opening his window. It was late fall, and Stella had been shivering when they were waiting on the sidewalk. So he endured.
She snuggled into his side, which took the edge off his mood, and he put his arm around her shoulders.
“You were pretty quiet tonight,” he said, keeping his voice low in case she were already falling asleep.
“Was I?”
He smiled— Did she really think he wouldn’t notice? —and brushed his knuckle across her cheek, catching the lock of auburn hair that had fallen over her face. He loved her hair. The color. The thickness. How surprisingly soft it was. He tucked it back behind her ear.
“It was a pretty intense conversation,” he said, “but after we saw Jun’s photos, you barely said two words.”
“I guess I have a lot on my mind.”
That was certainly true. She was either thinking of her father, which made sense given the conversation, or she was thinking about the very real possibility that she would soon be losing her store and her home.
It took everything in him not to make her another financial offer. It would be so easy for him to save her, but he knew better than to push. And he respected her desire to take care of her own shit.
But they’d talked about marriage. More than talked. Not only was their magic paired, he considered them engaged. He just needed to get the ring.
Nothing too ostentatious. Stella wouldn’t want that; it would draw too fine of a line under the differences in their bank accounts. But nothing too small either, not considering the enormous impact she’d had on his life.
Should he take a guess on what she wanted and make it a surprise? Or would she want to pick it out herself? These were questions he’d never had reason to think about before. And now, with life as precarious as it was, he didn’t want to wait.
“What are you going to wear?” she murmured, snuggling in even closer.
For a second, he didn’t understand the question. Then he wound his way back to the immediacy of the moment. There were things they had to do before he could think about diamonds—starting with the masquerade ball.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I went as Robin Hood last year.”
Stella didn’t lift her head from his chest, but she exhaled a laugh through her nose and curled her fingers into the front of his shirt.
“Is that funny?” he asked.
“ You? ” she asked. “In tights? I don’t know if it’s funny or obscene.”
“Compression shorts and a long tunic hide a variety of sins.”
“Hardly,” she scoffed. “And you were a serious politician.”
“I know. Thankfully, the only photograph of me that got published was from the chest up, and I was wearing a mask. Doherty thought, if my identity was blown, it was a costume that resonated with my campaign promise of looking out for the little guy.”
“Well, you can’t go as the same thing two years in a row,” she said.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ve never been, so it doesn’t matter. I’ll just wear something I already have. I don’t have time to shop.”
That made sense. She had a whole closet full of witchy Halloween costumes at the store—everything from colonial garb to black pointy hats. Either one would do, unless she was tired of them. Would she want to go shopping if she had the time?
Ethan kissed the top of her head, and she nuzzled her cheek against his upper chest.
“Isn’t Magnus coming to the store in the morning?” he asked while leaning forward to make sure the driver was taking the best route out of the city.
“It’s Saturday, so yeah.”
“Then why don’t you have time to shop?”
“I’m meeting with a financial planner at ten. He’s going to help me with debt management.”
“Ah,” he said, even though she had to know it was a little too late for that. “You know…we convinced an entire city council to let us bury my father in a historic cemetery in the middle of Salem. You could?—”
“I know,” she said quickly. “I thought about using magic to get myself out of this jam, but it felt dishonest. I made this mess. I’ll get myself out of it, or…”
“ Or? ” he pressed.
“Or I won’t, and I’ll live with the consequences.”
If it came to that, Ethan wondered how hard it would be to move her into his apartment. Would she fight him on that too, insisting on independence?
They continued in silence while the car rumbled over the repaired cracks in the road, then slowed as they merged with the late-night traffic on the Meridian Street Bridge.
As soon as they were across the river and into Chelsea, Ethan decided the driver knew what he was doing, and he settled in for the rest of the ride.
“If you’re not going shopping,” he asked, “any thoughts on what you’ll wear to the masquerade?”
Stella yawned. “I figure I’ll just wear my red dress.”
“Your…” Ethan’s heart skipped. “You mean the red dress?”
That thudding sensation he’d gotten in his chest while watching her cross a crowded ballroom, coming toward him…the vision of her luscious body straining the seams of that sinful column of satin... and every other memory from that night shimmied along the edges of his mind.
He’d often wondered if he’d get to see that dress on her again. He’d hoped for better circumstances, but he’d take his pleasures when and where they came.
“Yes, the red dress,” she said on a bit of a laugh. “You can’t seriously imagine I’ve got more the one. I can go as Jessica Rabbit.”
“ Shit .” Ethan said as his imagination ran wild. She could end up being a dangerous distraction to an already high-stakes kind of night.
“What?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.
“I’m getting hard just thinking about you in that dress.”
She snorted. “Then it’s a good thing you won’t be wearing tights.”
“You’ve—”
She slipped her hand over his crotch.
Ethan flinched, ending on a strangled sounding, “—got that right.”
She squeezed, and he carefully removed her hand from his cock. Any other time, yeah , sign him up. But right now they were in the back of a stranger’s car, and it would be another thirty-five minutes before they got back to Salem. Maybe he should have told the driver to take them to his apartment in the city.
Ethan’s gaze slid from the top of Stella’s head to the rearview mirror. The driver’s eyes appeared to be on the road, though the corner of his mouth was tipped up more than necessary.
“Something loose then,” Ethan said. “Maybe a 1920s gangster. That could go with Jessica Rabbit.”
“If you’re going shopping for yourself, can you pick me up some long gloves? I think they’re supposed to be purple. If not, I’ll have to find some time to make them. I’ve got the fabric, but?—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get some.”
“Thanks, Ethan.”
“Anything, Red. You name it.”
When they finally arrived in Salem, Ethan helped a very sleepy Stella out of the car. Once they were upstairs, they didn’t pick up where they’d left off. They both crashed onto Stella’s bed and slept like the dead until morning.